


Agnija

by arpita



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2020-07-11 23:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19936549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpita/pseuds/arpita
Summary: Based on a prompt by @teammahishmati on Tumblr: Baahu survives his injuries somehow and returns to his house which is burned down. He thinks they’re dead so he freaks out and leaves. Devasena assumes he is dead. Shivu raised by Sanga as usual, Baahu becomes Robin Hoodish on the outskirts under a fake name not knowing about anyone’s survival.Guys, I've tried. Though well, heaven alone knows. :D





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayavanavihariniHarini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/gifts), [Inkn1ght1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkn1ght1/gifts), [CarminaVulcana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarminaVulcana/gifts).



_ “Go!” the hooded stranger insists. _

_ “B-but-- The King-- th-the s-soldiers!” one of the prisoners helplessly stammered.  _

_ “You’re answerable to none for your freedom.” his deep voice gives them a reassurance they felt kindling a strange warmth in them. They were after all, prisoners of a war with the mighty Mahishmati. Solace and reassurance were unlikely guests at a time when fate awaited in the form of execution, or worse, slavery. The King, -The Tyrant, if truth be told- thrived on their misery, and Heaven alone knew what awaited them. _

_ “Flee to the south-west. Mingle amongst the tribes. Do not hide where you can live freely!” The stranger continued unlocking their cells.  _

_ The prisoners, men, women, and children ran through the dark, cavernous dungeons of Mahishmati, led by this Phantom. None could make out his eyes, or tell what he looked like even as they heard his voice. They tripped over several injured, writhing soldiers as they made their way out. As the sun graced their eyes, the stranger let out a neigh, as a call to his steed. _

_ As a whole flock of free men made their way to the south-west, all they could see was the hilt of a sword, shaped in the form of a lion’s head, protruding from a sheath belted firmly to this man’s waist. The outline faded, and none of them would ever see their saviour again. _

  
  


_ \--- _

“My Lord! P-p-please!” the soldier cried bitterly at Bhallaladeva’s feet. 

“They  **fled** !  **Fled** ! You imbecile!” roared he, his sword raised, ready to strike. 

“He came, My Lord! Someone… someone came… we couldn’t-”

Blood splattered all over Bhalla’s face as the miscreant’s head, lifeless and bloody rolled on the ground. His eyes had glassed out as they stared into the void in horror.

“Clean this mess!” he snapped at the attendant nearby. 

“Bhairava!” he shouted once more. 

Another man came running, floundering out of breath at the sudden call.

“Your Highness.” he remembered to bow as the attendant’s trembling hands scoured the floor clean of the sanguine drops. 

“Comb through the length and breadth of the city, and the surrounding towns!” Bhallaladeva boomed once more.

“I want that creature, man, or beast, God or The Devil Himself, in chains!” the instruction came.

***

_ An eagle landed right at his feet, with a scroll tied to its claws. _

_ ‘He is looking for you. Relocate elsewhere.’ the message read.  _

_ Amarendra Baahubali let out a weary sigh. Kattappa never stopped worrying for him. He had been sceptical even when he had somehow conveyed his plan of rescuing those prisoners of the war with a city called Vidisha.  _

_ But he couldn’t let Bhalla victimise the innocent to prove his lordship over the meek.  _

_ That wasn’t how strength was supposed to be displayed. One had to rule with paternal affection, nurture with maternal instinct, and exercise immense dexterity of intellect to run a Kingdom. Tyranny was no way out. _

_ Moreover, it was Baahubali, Bhalla had a problem with. Maiming the innocent was no way to exact revenge either. _

_ But he hadn’t  _ **_just_ ** _ maimed the innocent, had he? _

_ \--- _

_ Kattappa’s grieved, helpless face loomed in his memory, as did his mother’s scorn, and subsequent regret at her decision to have her own beloved boy assassinated by the slave’s sword. _

_ “Mama?!” he had stared in disbelief as Kattappa’s weapon made a halt only millimeters away from his chest, as he had bounded around just in time. _

_ “Run, child! Run!” Kattappa had immediately said. “Save yourself, and never return to this benighted place! Never!” _

_ He had run with all his might to that little cottage that might have held Devasena, and his newborn. But all that stood there was a mass of ashes and dust, huddled in a heap on the ground, and the surroundings were razed to cinders.  _

_ So now, Devasena was dead or worse, imprisoned with the impression of his death, as was their baby. Sivagami Devi had probably embraced death as well, as she took stock of her countless errors.  _

**_Bhalla was King much to his Uncle’s sadistic delight._ **

_ Never before had Amarendra Baahubali felt this strange emotion course through his veins as he made a final run from his motherland. The ashes of the ruins had perhaps given rise to a new individual, who was something more than the Baahubali everyone knew. _

_ This man, was sired by Agnishwara Himself. _

**_This, was Agnija, Born of The Fire. Living only for one purpose._ **

  
  


_ To let justice prevail after all.  _

  
  


_ *** _

_ Bhallaladeva’s scarred face was such a disgust to behold! _ , Devasena soliloquised every time Bhalla made one of this thespian speeches of his victories.

Five years had passed. Five whole years, and yet little had changed in her life. Bhalla’s spite for Baahubali remained the same, and yet, his vanity increased with what seemed like every passing second. The man was an abomination, with nothing but destruction to thrive on. 

Those years hadn’t rekindled her beloved back to life. Her baby was still missing, though she still believed him to be alive, saved by her late mother-in-law’s efforts.

However, there was one consolation that steadily made itself known to her on a regular basis, if she could call it a consolation, that is. For all his gloating, Bhallaladeva wasn’t really at peace. On quite a few occasions, she could hear him fuming in anger and bellowing orders to catch a miscreant who had miraculously escaped his frantic searches.

Somewhere, the stories of this particular ghost of a man reminded her of another ghost she had known. He had come as a stuttering imbecile, and departed as a conquering hero, a God Amongst Men. 

_ Had Agnishwara sired yet another of his brethren, apart from her infant? _ , she wondered at times.

She didn’t know why all of a sudden, her husband felt bleakly alive, why she felt his breath fan her face when she somehow coaxed herself to sleep in that godforsaken cell of hers. 

He was dead, and yet he didn’t seem dead in his lingering presence.

\---

The Hamlet of Amboli was home to little Shiva, Sanga’s adopted child, who she loved to bits. 

It was also home to another. Someone who had made it a temporary residence of sorts. This man never showed his face, and returned after long intervals of time. Somehow, he inspired an awe amongst the villagers in his mesmerising gaze, and his oddly soothing voice. 

Tiny Shiva, now five years old, was fascinated by the  _ Jalparvat  _ as well. And to know that there was actually someone who scaled it regularly, was like living in a fairytale to him.

“Why doesn’t he speak much, Mother?” he asked his Mother at times.

Sanga didn’t quite know how to answer that particular query in a different manner each time Shiva made his inquiry. Also, she found it puzzling that, that very stranger seemed to hold some kind of affection for her child. But then, with the kind of benevolence she saw in his lotus-like eyes, she didn’t stop him from playing with his child, though, such occasions were as rare as that stranger’s presence in Ambuli.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself, child?” Sanga surrendered smilingly.

Shiva made a mental note to do just that the next time he visited.

“Does he have a name, Mother?” another question comes.

“But of course, he does, My Dear,” Sanga beams, - “We shall now call him Pundarikakshya.”

- _ The Lotus-Eyed one _ , she says to herself.


	2. Abhyarambha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baahubali and Kattappa have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abhyarambham - Beginning (in Sanskrit)

"Why don't you speak?" the child flashed a toothless smile.

The veiled stranger said nothing, and yet, his eyes communicated a warmth that propelled further questions.

"Why can't I see you?"

_ Because it isn't time yet,  _ he wishes to say. 

And once again, he chooses his warmth to be the answer.

\---

"Why do you come here time and again, Baahu?" an exasperated Kattappa asked him.

"Because Maahishmati is my Motherland," Baahubali answers him coldly.

His demeanour is pretty unsettling, and yet his Mama knows that he was just being what was expected of him. 

_ Circumstances had a way of changing people _ , he often thought. 

"My Brother keeps Devasena chained in a cage," Baahubali reiterated for Kattappa to hear, of course, not without intent. The man needed to know what the aftermath of The Queen Mother's indiscretion had been. And what his obedience had spewed.

It was because of Sivagami Devi that his boy was growing up without hearing his voice, or seeing his face. It was because of the mighty Karikala Kattappa Nadar that Devasena, The Rightful Queen of Maahishmati was living a wretched life.

"I cannot reveal myself to my own son!" Kattappa doesn't miss the thunder rumbling in his voice. 

"Baahu," Kattappa makes another attempt at persuasion, "if Bhallaladeva gets to know-"

-"I wouldn't die without driving a spear through his heart." Amarendra interjected.

"I'm only awaiting my chance, Mama." He completed.

"But such frequent visits to Maahishmati," Kattappa began once again, "might lower your chances against him!"

The foster nephew doesn't miss the earnestness in his voice. However, his accumulated asperity wasn't one to be quelled by that alone.

"Hasn't Bhalla ordered you to lead the troops that are supposed to be searching for me?"

Kattappa knew better than to speak. Bhalla hadn't yet entrusted him the responsibility of hunting this mysterious Messiah down. But then, it was only a matter of time before the guards failed in their quest, and then eventually, Bhallaladeva would definitely recruit him to head the search campaign.

"Tell me, Mama," Amarendra made no attempt to hide his bitterness, "What would you do this time?"

"I'm bound to The Throne, Baahu," the expected answer comes. 

"And yet, I would lay my life down for The True King of Maahishmati." Kattappa's eyes meet Baahu's.

"You won't have it that easily, old man." Baahu says clearly.

"I know you want payback," the mighty serf spoke, "and you are justified in seeking so."

"I seldom side with the unjust, as you might know," the outlaw speaks.

"As mother should have known." Amarendra sighs.

"She did!" Kattappa blurts in protest only to be silenced by Amarendra's stern sight.

"She has paid her due, Baahu!" He continued, earnestly. 

Baahubali breathed deeply.

"Bhalla must pay as well." Amarendra does not mince his words, not by the slightest measure.

"And I'll ask for a price higher than his wretched life." 

\----


	3. Maalinya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __
> 
> "Does God have a dark side?" she asks quietly.
> 
> _  
> _
> 
> The Demigod casts a straight glance at the inquisitive Angel
> 
> __  
> "Why else do you think The Devil exists?" came the answer
> 
> __

At times, if not always, Baahubali’s hands ached to turn the cage holding Devasena into cinders, with Bhalla inside it, screaming, pleading for dear life, his skin peeling away into the flames, his eyes reddened and meek, his voice-

Yet, whenever such wanton ghosts hounded him, he compelled himself to think of his son, growing comfortably in that little hamlet, blissfully unaware of his viciously bloody background. He was seeking vengeance, against his own brother. No man should ever be made to bear such thoughts against one’s own. That was vile, that was base.

But every human had a dark side, concealed or otherwise. And here, in these phantom woods, he had no one but himself to confess his thoughts to.

He wished he could explicitly show himself to his wife, and end her misery. Even if Bhallaladeva did kill him, this time, both of them would die together. There would be no cause for remorse, or regret. He clamoured to rid themselves of their accursed existence, where every second they breathed was fraught with danger, and an indeterminable psychological niggling that denied them the necessity of sleep.

He knew Bhalla hadn’t slept in years. All that wine, all those dances in the Sabha, all those women he bedded, just let him chain the beast in his stupor. He was desperately looking for an object for a welcome distraction, and yet, none came, not in the form of that snake of a man he called ‘Father’, and certainly not in the form of the Princess who had now spurned him owing to his actions. He did not let his grief show, of course, but then drowning himself in lust and gluttony hadn’t helped him either.

In other words, Bhalla was far more miserable than he was. At least, he had hope, which was an unaffordable luxury for the other man. Both were burning, and yet, Bhalla was asphyxiated by his own ghosts. The Mighty Tyrant of Maahishmati should welcome death with open arms, just as he would embrace a brother.

_ His only brother. _

\---


	4. Ashvasana

The twigs she collected lay in a huddle somewhere in the corner of that vat she envisaged turning into a kiln, sometime in future, if Fate helped.

She cursed herself. Here she was, one who always depended on her own valour to protect herself, was now depending on something as transient as Fate. 

She wondered if it existed. Every now, and then, she hoped that there would be something -  **_anything-_ ** to validate the flickering, feeble flame of faith that was too stubborn to take its leave. At times it was the whispers of the rumoured, hooded vigilante that did the rounds of the town, at times it was watching Bhallaladeva fumble in hopelessness watching himself fail, time and again.

Yet, that stranger, was a  **_stranger_ ** . A lore walking in flesh and blood. While her legend-

**_Was dead._ **

The time to lament had gone. As days passed and nothing ever seemed to materialise, she was compelling herself to just hold on. And yet-

\- Something zoomed past her. Something that looked like -

_ Is that an arrow?,  _ she wondered.

Her brow furrowed. She could not help but marvel at the position that arrow had been placed at. Just at the optimal distance for her to be able to reach out to it with the chains shackling her foot, and unfurl the scroll that it came wrapped with.

_ Why did it seem to be directed at her? _

That flickering, phantasm of hope, seemed to have a corporeal existence. The positivism seemed to be admittedly odd.

Nonetheless, she reached out to it, she had to, before anyone came in, even if it was Kattappa.

_ “This shall end, Deva.” _ it read, as if speaking to her in a voice that she had known all her life.

_ The handwriting!  _

There was absolutely no mistaking those letters. The manner in which he drew them, the precise, yet slovenly scrawl. 

**_She knew it was him. It had to be._ **

\---


	5. Anubandha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anubandha - Continuity

‘Any news of that miscreant, Kattappa?’ Bhalla growled.

‘No, Your Highness,’ Kattappa lowered his head along with the others he had led in his assignment to search the fugitive.

‘ **NO?!** ’ Bhalla bellowed.

‘None, My Lord.’ Kattappa confirmed.

‘Well then, Father is right, after all, it seems,’ Bhalla sneered, ‘You are worthless, aren’t you?’

Kattappa breathed, his gaze still subservient to the man he was serving unwillingly. There were instances where he couldn’t help but marvel at his own patience in putting up with this creature he had to call King.

‘We have made our best attempts, My King,’ he said, ‘All the corners-’

-‘In this land and beyond have been searched thoroughly, haven’t they? You have questioned everyone, man, woman and child for a hooded saviour who saves them from their misery, isn’t that so?’ Bhalla completed it for him

‘This is becoming tedious, Kattappa,’ he said, ‘The same lines, over and over again.’

‘Tell me something,’ he turned to face the older man, ‘Is this someone we should be looking for in closer corners?’

‘I do not know, My Lord,’ he was answered, impassively.

‘Oh of course,’ Bhalla smiled, ‘Why would you?’

Deep inside, his instincts told him not to trust the serf. Bhallaladeva, for his part, knew full well, that Kattappa was only serving him out of compulsion. There was no reverence in his actions, just plain compliance to an oath he had been bound by since generations.

'Leave!' he signalled.

'Not you.' he instructed as Kattappa turned to leave.

He had a smile on his face, and Kattappa knew better than to question him.

\---

'What is it, Mama?' Amara rolled his eyes.

'You tell me!' Kattappa snapped, visibly irritated.

'It is my dear brother then, isn't it?', Baahu smiled.

'He is doing what he does best,' Kattappa took a step closer to him.

'But I'm not here for him,' he spoke further, 'I'm here for you!'

'Ah! The concern!' Baahubali's tone was mildly acerbic, as always.

'Baahu!' This time, Kattappa snapped out loud.

'What on earth were you thinking?!' he shouted, 'sending scrolls near Devasena's cell? What if it fell in the hands of a palace guard? What if-'

-'Bhalla caught it?' he completed, a smile playing on his face.

'Baahu!' Kattappa sighed. 

'Tell me, Mama,' Amarendra asked him, 'has he got his brains to work, yet?'

'He questioned me about that night,' Kattappa said, 'if that is what you are asking.'

'Ah!' the smile on Baahubali's face got wider as his eyes gleamed.

'It is getting dangerous, Baahu,' Kattappa pleaded, 'you cannot imagine what-'

'Do not enumerate My Brother's glories in front of me, Old Man,' Baahu spoke simply.

'You watched him kill his own Mother.'

'We are not revisiting that night again!' Kattappa answered, his voice stern.

'Scared to open old wounds?' Amarendra asked him.

'None of these ruminations will help,' Kattappa continued, 'you must-'

-'Pay him a visit very soon.' he heard Baahu speak.

'My Brother misses me, Kattappa,' he confirmed for Kattappa to hear.

'And you, Mama,' he added, 'shall help me enter my home.'

\---


	6. Adhvan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adhvan || Journey

"Where did he go?!" Little Shiva cried to his mother.

It had almost been a month, or perhaps more, since he had last seen his Lotus-Eyed One. Only when the days had rolled into weeks, that Shiva had come to realise how much that stranger's absence meant to him. The poor child had been inconsolable for five whole days, and had cried himself into a fever.

"There, there, my child," Sanga hugged him close.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" she looked at the Physician.

"It is more of a mental illness, Amma," he told her, yet again.

"His fever won't subside till that stranger returns." he elaborated, as the cries near Sanga's bosom got louder.

"He has thrown all his toys," she sniffled, "He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep…"

She felt it was inevitable. Wayfarers like him never stayed at a single place for long. But this one was a little unusual, as he turned up in every few days, and then disappeared without a trace, only to reappear, like he were a corporeal ghost of some kind.

_ What if he never returns?,  _ Sanga's heart shuddered.

The mighty Jalparvat overlooked her humble cottage. She wondered if that man had scaled it again.

_ What if he had finally met his end there?  _ Sanga closed her eyes as Shiva's bawling now silenced itself into sobs.

\---

  
  


"You are slowing me down, Old Man!" Baahubali sneered.

"Damn right I am!" Kattappa snapped back. 

"I'm saving your neck there!" he told him as they crossed the umpteenth crevice of the Jalparvat. 

  
  


Bhallaladeva had the caves boarded for tighter security. Those very caves had once been handy tunnels, extremely beneficial for espionage. But then, with this phantom looming up, every now and then, the spies had been instructed clearly - _ much to their chagrin-  _ to find other ways of doing their work for all potential escape routes  **_had_ ** to be sealed.

_ But he couldn't seal the skies, could he? _

"Choose your words carefully, Mama," Baahu called back.

Kattappa didn't bother answering. Retorting to this would lead to another argument, one they'd had multiple times. At times, Kattappa felt as if his nephew derived some vindictive pleasure by opening up his old wounds.

He was taking his entitlement, of course, because he had failed him, miserably. It would almost have been a venomous breach of faith had he not chosen to save his soul at the last minute.

  
  


"I could have crossed this in five days!" Baahubali's taunt broke Kattappa's reverie.

"Do not hurry this, Baahu," Kattappa told him, "We are sneaking you into Maahishmati, where you're a fugitive."

This time, the listener chose silence over speech. After all, he was being helped. The longer his journey took, the better it would be for them. Bhalla was definitely fostering a false sense of security, wherein he was sure that Kattappa was looking for him, as he searched the skies (quite literally), for this particular outlaw. 

Amarendra looked upward.

_ Maahishmati wasn't that far away. _

_ He would come home. _

_ This was a reunion that was long overdue. _

\---


	7. Dvistava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dvistava || Hatred

Devasena dearly wished she could choke living daylights out of her captor's eyes. 

_ Was it vindictive of her to think thus?  _

Yes, her conscience often answered itself, without letting her feel a tinge of guilt over the prospect of killing another human. Even her maternal instincts allowed it. And given the physical presence of the scroll she had received, she felt that Bhalla's days were numbered.

Of course, he paid his visits, every single day. She had to endure that ugly gash across his face while he gloated away on his fake glories. She had to endure his voice, his eyes, and his pride, all hollow and superficial. 

She dared not answer him, even once. And yet, tonight, she felt her heart twitch in anticipation and fear.

  
  


Every passing day, she felt his presence grow stronger, more tangible. Her hopes gathered their resilience from her intuition. And what was better, they had validation from the person who had been the closest to him.

"He is here, Amma," he had told her once while she had been arranging Bhalla's prospective pyre.

"We must wait. All of us. You, me, him," he had hushed.

She had only nodded, to let him know that she was ready to wait, for as long as it might be humanly possible.

\---

  
  


“Are you sure, Child?” a bewildered Bijjaladeva asked.

“Positive, Nana,” he retorted, his lips twisting in a sinister smile.

“That bloody cur!” the Maimed Royal growled.

“Curs are faithful, Father,” Bhalla spoke very coolly, “Kattappa isn’t.”

“Hmph!” he slumped back in his chair.

“What must we do now, Bhalla?” he questioned.

“Nothing,” Bhallaladeva’s eyes were cold. 

“We just wait for them to return,” he continued, eyeing his puzzled father.

“Wait?! How must we w-”

\- “This was exactly why I sent Kattappa alone, Nana,” he clarified, “He would definitely reach out to that miscreant, after all-”

His handsome features contorted in the most repulsive manner as he recounted the treachery perpetrated on him. 

\- “Baahubali’s beloved,  _ Mama _ ,”- he spat.

Bijjala did not grunt this time. He knew that tone far too well. He realised that his son had known this all along. Sending Kattappa away to oversee a supposed search mission was just a farce. 

_ And wasn’t it evident? _

All those escapades, all the times those soldiers returned severely injured.  _ Injured _ , that is.

_ Baahubali never indulged in slaughter, unless it was absolutely necessary. _

  
  


\---


	8. Lakshanaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lakshanaka || Signs

Devasena marvelled at herself for her unending patience with Bhalla and his frivolous antics.

_ Antics _ , yes. That was exactly what she thought of his actions.

The visits to her cell seemed more of a routine than anything else. A sick, deranged routine that he  **had** to follow. But then-

Today, he had an unusual expression on his face, one that she found impossible to read.

Was it because she was so used to watching him smirk triumphantly in front of her?

Was it because she was accustomed to see his face contort in jealousy whenever he talked?

She  **_just_ ** could not put a finger to it when he neared her cage.

“Well, well,”- he began, in a much sober tone than usual, “looks like your prayers shall be answered after all, won’t they?”

_ What prayers was he talking about?,  _ she didn’t voice her thoughts.

Her gaze was still lowered, she hated looking at his grotesque countenance.

_ Or did he? _ -

-“We are both awaiting his return,  _ Vadina _ ,” he sneered, his voice a low whisper.

“You shall see him for one last time, and this time,”- Bhallaladeva leaned closer,

\- “I shall kill him with bare hands.”

\---


End file.
